


A Good Start

by InspiredParadox



Category: Family Guy
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance, dogxbaby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 06:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InspiredParadox/pseuds/InspiredParadox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian expected nothing more than to spend his New Year's Eve lonely and bored. Then something happened to change both his humdrum plans, and his life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Start

**Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Family Guy and intend no copyright infringement.**

** A Good Start    **

The outlook was not bright; going by what entertainment prospects had so far presented themselves, it was shaping up to be a lackluster New Year’s Eve at the Griffin home that year. Nobody had any plans for the last night of the year, and the memories of the previous year’s festivities, too, dimmed the enthusiasm that might otherwise have been felt by the family. Last year’s New Year’s Eve had pretty much sucked for everybody. Chris had had a sleepover with some never-seen-around-the Griffin-house-before-or-since boys he sometimes hung out with at school who evidently qualified as friends. Meg was _also_ having a slumber party that night, and the girls attending it had run into Chris’s guests, and with a male guest for every female, it had just so occasioned that they all paired up, talking and flirting and god knew what else through the night, leaving both brother and sister deserted by their company and with nothing better to do than usher in the new year stuffing their faces with ice cream in the kitchen. While this was going on, Lois had locked herself in the master bathroom with a box of wine after a fight with Peter over something, which, tossed in with the innumerable instances of marital discord the two of them had since had in the intervening year, neither of them could now recall. Peter spent the night out at the Clam and got typically wasted, and the following morning drove his car home and through their closed garage door.  Meanwhile, Brian had gone out to troll the bars for someone to kiss at midnight (and preferably to have a long-term romantic relationship with after). The thing was, while ‘one night stand’ and ‘soul mate’ weren’t mutually exclusive terms, usually the person you worked corny pickup lines on at a bar until they relented and came back to your place for a drunken toss in the sheets wasn’t good for lasting romance. However, Brian had never really had any luck finding a woman to have a lasting romance with in _any_ environment. He’d found a chick that night who he sort of liked- she was pretty, if dumb as a brick like he always seemed to attract- and who flirted back with him. He’d made his move, settling his paw on her thigh…and almost immediately received a punch in the gut from the woman’s boyfriend, who had suddenly materialized from out of nowhere.

In fact, of all the long faces that had cropped up in the Griffin house over the past few days, when the realization that a new year was upon them again, Brian’s won handily as the most dower. It was almost too typical for him to be unhappy on a holiday, and he acknowledged that, if only to himself. But while Christmas, for example, brought his cynical side out full force, and did make him feel somewhat sad about the hypocrisy running rampant around that holiday, New Year’s tended to plunge him into darker emotions. Another year had gone by and what did he have to show for it? He was not in a meaningful romantic relationship, not, indeed, any romantic relationship at all. He was not a successful writer. It was all the usual stuff, and it certainly ate away at him enough, anyway, but having yet another new year begin with his circumstances no better than they were in the previous made it all the worse.

In the run-up to this particular New Year’s Eve, the day before found him sitting at the kitchen table, having a beer, a small spiral notebook open in front of him. Only the top three lines of the first page it was open to had writing on them- and hardly any at that . He’d recently started keeping this notebook as his “inspiration notebook”, where he could brainstorm ideas for his writing.  

So far, it wasn’t really working out so well.

Stewie was seated near Brian, coloring. They had had a little bit of conversation when Stewie first came into the room, but at least a good twenty minutes ago they had lapsed into comfortable silence. Well, mostly comfortable. The canine seemed quite like he didn’t want to discuss it, but Stewie could tell that the dog was feeling somewhat down. Of course, Brian often got in those types of moods, but today…Stewie thought he sensed…a little extra.  Seeing as it was New Year’s, the infant could understand if this were the case for his canine pal. Maybe he would ask about it later.

Lois entered the room and came to stand behind Brian. He was aware of her presence, but assumed that she was going to get something out of one of the cupboards. In the shadow of the looming holiday for which nobody had any fun plans, everyone had been kind of keeping to themselves today. However, Lois soon tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around.

She was smiling sweetly at him. Ingratiatingly sweet. Phony sweet. The kind of sweet that never boded well.

“Brian? You’re not going out tomorrow night, are you?”

He didn’t answer, merely gave her a prompting look so she would go on.

“It’s just that we just found out about a party Mayor West is throwing along with the city council. Invites are highly coveted and, as you might imagine, really hard to acquire, but when _someone’s_ own sister is married to the mayor…well, let’s just say it was a cinch to snag one.” Lois may love blue-collar, common as mud Peter, and not want in him to change (at least, she didn’t want him to become a snob like Carter), but she was obviously thrilled at this chance to feel  once more like someone who got ‘exclusive’ things, and probably a bit like Lois Pewterschmidt again.

Brian sighed, anticipating the favor that Lois was going to ask him.

“So…I was just wondering…it wouldn’t be a hardship for you to babysit Stewie, would it? I mean, if you don’t have any plans, anyway, how can it be?”

Lois made a very valid point. It was no hardship to hang out with Stewie…well, most of the time, anyway. And since he didn’t have plans on New Year’s, there was no place else he’d rather be. It was the fact that he _didn’t_ have those plans that was a bummer. Any alternative, even Stewie, to finding a good way to party down and get distracted on New Year’s Eve was dismaying. He was sure the tyke wouldn’t even be able to stay up until midnight, which meant that Brian would watch the clock strike twelve alone.

Stewie, however, seemed happy about their prospective New Year’s arrangements; Brian couldn’t help but notice that he was now softly humming as he filled in a drawing of an elephant with the most lurid pink Brian had ever seen.

Suddenly, a noise of disgust was heard, followed by,

“A party with my parents?! How lame!”

They all turned to see that Meg had come in from outside using the side door.

Lois regarded her with confusion.

“Meg? You’re going to the City of Quahog’s New Year’s Eve party?”

The young woman in the doorway nodded.

“That’s right.”

“But it’s a party for adults.”

At this, Meg’s temper visibly flared up.

“Yeah, well? I’m eighteen, aren’t I?”

“But there’s going to be alcohol served. You have to be twenty-one to go.”

Meg shook her head confidently.

“Nuh uh. Mayor West pulled some strings, and told me I could come, anyway. He owes me a favor…from the time when I was an intern for him.” She suddenly looked shifty, and Brian knew why. “He…uh…he forgot to sign some of the paper work from the school, so I only got half credit. He always said he would make it up to me.” Plopping down at the table, she added, under her breath, so that only Brian, sitting next to her, heard, “I suppose it’s more of a blackmail, thing, though, so I don’t tell Aunt Carol that Adam’s plucked twice from the same family tree.”

Brian just about choked on his sip of beer.  

“Anyway,” said Meg, at a normal decibel again, “I couldn’t care less about drinking, so you don’t have to worry about me breaking any law, Mom. I don’t have to drink to have a good time.”

“Huh,” muttered Brian. “Keep telling yourself that.

“Of course you won’t be drinking alcohol,” said Lois disdainfully, rolling her eyes. “What kind of teen girl goes to the biggest party of the year, with liquor flowing freely all around, and doesn’t join in? Ugh. But then we’ve always know that you’re nothing- _nothing!-_  like your cool mom.”

Peter wandered into the room, then, scratching his behind and heading for the refrigerator. He grabbed himself a Pawtucket Patriot and then turned to talk to the kitchen at large.

“Hey, guys, what’s going on?”

“Peter,” his wife addressed him. “We were just talking about Adam’s party. Brian agreed to babysit. Aren’t you so excited to go, Peter?”

Peter cracked the beer open and took a healthy gulp before responding.

“Oh. Yeah. Should be pretty fun. “

“Oh, Peter, _more_ than ‘pretty fun’! It’s been ages since we went to a proper New Year’s Eve party!”

“Well, you know, last year’s could’ve been fun if you hadn’t kicked everybody out early. I still say you overreacted big time to what went on with Quagmire during that game of pass the orange.”

A look of dawning realization suddenly came over Lois’s face, and, dropping her hands down to her sides, her nostrils flared. Her voice held a good deal of anger as she cried,

“ _That’s_ what our argument was about! For cryin’ out loud, Peter, I thought you’d learned your lesson about this! You never stick up for me around him! You just let him get away with behaving skeezy toward me all the time! Peter, he spent, like, thirty seconds just rubbing against my boobs, without even trying to take the goddamn orange!”

“Hey, I-I-I mean, what’s your deal, here, though, Lois? We’ve been over this a million times, and I stand by what I’ve always said. Pass the orange is a whore’s game, and you deserve what you get when you play it.”

“ _What_?!”

The others all decided that it was about time that they were going, with Meg slipping back out the door she’d arrived through, and Brian and Stewie rushing on through to the living room. As they crossed the threshold into safety, the dog glanced over his shoulder at the baby who was perhaps a foot behind him, and they exchanged mutual looks of ‘Can you believe this shit?’

They stopped before the foot of their stairs.

“Brian?”

Brian turned around again when he heard his name, and saw Stewie standing with an orange beneath his chin.

“Yeah? What?”

The child motioned toward the fruit he was holding under his jaw.

“Well? Do you wanna play?”

Brian’s brows pulled together as he considered the boy in front of him.

“It’s not much of a game with only two people.”

Stewie looked disproportionately put out by Brian’s reply, which didn’t really strike the dog as anything too odd, being as well acquainted with Stewie as he was. If he had to guess, he would say that the baby was attempting to come on to him again. Brian was well aware of Stewie’s crush on him- he’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to remain in ignorance of it. He’d wondered before if he should put a stop to the child’s regular advances. Sometimes that seemed like the responsible thing to do, but then again, why rock the boat? Having a word with Stewie about that would only make them both feel embarrassed and awkward, and would probably offend the boy a lot. Besides, it was kind of flattering to have someone admire him so much. Brian didn’t find that just anywhere. And what harm could it do, to let things go on as they were? It was just an insignificant, childish crush.

He chuckled and gave the kid a light, affectionate slug on the arm, before making his way over to the sofa, jumping up onto it, and switching on the T.V. Stewie did not join him, but headed upstairs.

**SBSBSBSBSBSB**

He should have brought his laptop down here. That way, he’d have been able to look up something better. Or, at the very least, he should have thrown on his shades, gotten bundled up in his parka and stocking cap, put on a phony mustache, and hit the pornography store earlier in the day. He wasn’t exactly having a good time right now. But he’d found himself vaguely bored and horny, so, after the others had all gone to bed, he’d made the best choice there was to make from his meager collection of adult DVD’s and sat down to jerk himself off.

He’d drunk a little too much over the course of the day. It was not a comfortable state of intoxication. Being such a fan of the drink, and indulging as frequently as he did, he knew all his levels. He knew when he was buzzed. He knew when he was just over the line of buzzed and was feeling damn good and loving and wanted to be loved back. This was when he felt warm all over- often times, _all over_ , and he’d had some of the best sex of his life when he was on that level. But he’d drank right past that level today, and onto the next, and while he still had a craving for sex on this level, the aphrodisiac effect of just the right amount of alcohol had passed. His desire was much vaguer, it came more from wanting to be soothed, and he felt far less invincible. But this was a listless level, and the choice, utterly sad as it was, was usually masturbation or sitting still and falling into a depression.

“Bry? Whatcha watchin’?”

Brian had never moved so fast to grab a remote before in his life. He speedily clicked off the DVD player, and Stewie walked around the side of the couch to look at an empty screen. While the kid was distracted, the dog hastily grabbed the blanket he’d brought down with him and spread it over his lap. He was barely in a more excited state than normal, but he placed it there just in case.

“Actually, Stewie, I-” But what could he say? That he’d rather be left alone because he’d wanted to sit up and think some things over in solitude? There was always the chance that he would come across as too dejected, and if he provoked Stewie’s concern, the boy would never leave.

The child was staring at him, awaiting a response.

He finally decided on saying,

“I couldn’t sleep. I was sitting here, thinking about what movies we have, and trying to choose one to watch. Here’s a better question, though: what are _you_ doing up?”

Stewie shrugged nonchalantly and proceeded to climb up onto the couch.

“You don’t want to get to bed now? Don’t you plan on trying to stay up until midnight for New Year’s? Two nights in a row might be too much, so if you really want to make it to midnight when it counts, I suggest you get your rest now.”

Stewie stuck out his lip and pouted.

“Now, _Brian_ , if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me. Luckily, that’s not the case. I know you to be a fellow of remarkable tact,” he remarked sarcastically, wriggling down into the couch cushions, putting on a show of getting comfortable. He was sitting just a little too close to Brian. The dog coughed uncomfortably and shifted in his own spot as discretely as he could, aware of a ‘growing’ problem.

Brian had fully expected his arousal to have faded by now, but, to his near-furious chagrin, it was still there, and, while he’d only barely been stiff before, he realized that he was now more, uh, should he say, _upwardly mobile_  than he had been before Stewie sat down beside him.  He would slip out of his sheath in a minute.

It must be some delayed gratification thing. Knowing that he couldn’t go back to touching himself until after the baby left had created a fairly strong desire, when one hadn’t really been present before. His own body was turning contrary on him.  

Everything always worked against him.

The dog hoped he didn’t visibly jump when Stewie then went on to bring up kissing, because he definitely jumped on the inside.

“I think that you’re probably disappointed, Brian, that you don’t have a special someone to spend tomorrow night with. Oops! Well, I suppose I misspoke there, didn’t I?” The boy laughed. “You’ll be spending it with _me,_ and I’m certainly _fabulously_ special. But my point is, you needn’t feel bad. You’re not the only one in that particular boat, you know. I have no one to kiss for New Year’s, either.”

The canine snorted loudly. Both at his companion’s fey use of the word ‘fabulous’, and at the corner stone of the infant’s little pep talk. What the hell was this? He supposed that he appreciated the sentiment, the effort that the kid was making here, but Stewie comparing _his_ situation to Brian’s own? There was just no equating the two.

“Why don’t you kiss Rupert?”

“Rupert? Well, I guess I could. Although, our relationship isn’t really like that. We do have our fun, but I regard…” The baby squirmed, and it amused Brian to no end to know that Stewie was probably getting embarrassed, “…kissing as rather intimate, and I wouldn’t like to give him the wrong idea.”

Brian couldn’t reign in a bark of laughter at that.

“No kissing? So, it’s like _Pretty Woman_? What, are you like a prostitute for your bear?”

Stewie’s only response was to narrow his eyes at the dog resentfully.

They then sat there next to each other silently for a minute or two, and Brian was even more of a mind to tell the kid to begone, because this whole delayed gratification thing was becoming more of a bitch every second.

Suddenly, Stewie surprised him by turning to him wearing an expression full of resolution.

“Well, just in case I _don’t_ manage to stay up until the New Year, and you can’t find anybody to kiss…”

The baby bounced on the couch as, feet still tucked underneath him, he turned his whole body toward his companion in one swift motion.

“Happy New Year!”

And before Brian could do anything, Stewie had grabbed onto his muzzle and pressed his lips solidly to the canine’s, the kiss firm and decisive. He was too shocked to pull away before Stewie, but lucky for him, the malevolent little tot kept the kiss brief. He then cast his eyes downward, and looked as though he may have regretted his brashness. Brian felt a pang of sympathy for the kid. He didn’t know what Stewie was playing at, or even what the source of his regret was, but he hated the sad, vulnerable look that formed on his little buddy’s face. He opened his mouth to say something to reassure the child, but in the very next moment, he could only spare sympathy for himself. For as Stewie was moving shyly away from him, his foot gliding against the blanket pulled it off the dog’s lap, exposing Brian’s unsheathed flesh, and it seemed that all the child could do was stare.

Stewie looked quite stricken. Brian hastened to apologize, mortified beyond words to have been caught in such a condition, and in the company of a baby, no less! What if Stewie…dear god, what if Stewie leapt to some sort of… _conclusion_?

“Uh…uh…uh, I-I’m real sorry…sorry you had to see that. I was…I was watching porn before you came in, alright? So, l-l-like before you start thinking, t-that I don’t know, it’s some creepy shit or something- it has nothing to do with you! I-I-I was pretty into the porn. And y’know, well, I’m pretty sexually frustrated, it’s been a long time, and well…go ahead, laugh at me if you have to! Laugh all you want!” Brian was angry now, angry at Stewie, and he didn’t know why. It didn’t make sense. Stewie had kissed him, and that was wrong of the kid, but he was entirely accustomed to advances from Stewie, even if he’d never gone so far as to kiss him without permission. He’d never before gotten set off by it; his usual method was to brush off Stewie’s come-ons as if they were nothing. But wait! Why was he focusing on that kiss? This was about a totally separate matter. He’d only started to feel irate when he realized he was showing Stewie his erection, and begun to think what Stewie might read into this scenario.

Why was he mad at this child, who wasn’t even laughing at his predicament? And why did _that_ make him mad- that Stewie _wasn’t_ laughing, but was instead looking at him, thunderstruck.

Within the space of a few moments, during which Brian continued to ponder and despair and glower, Stewie shook off his paralysis and possibly the most dangerous smile Brian had ever seen painted the infant’s flushed face as Stewie bent forward and leaned on Brian’s thigh. With a little bit of a flourish, Stewie’s hand extended, and Brian floundered, unable to react with the brain short circuit he experienced after realizing the destination of that hand was very clear.

“I-it’ll go limp as soon as you touch it-!”

He was wrong, though. When Stewie’s fingers brushed against the canine’s semi-hard dick, what happened was it gave an intrigued twitch and Brian sucked in a harsh breath. He let it out with a whooshing sound that ended in a moan when the baby continued to gently rub his fingers up and down the rod that was in no way displeased with his attentions. Brian was horrified by how turned on he was getting.

He would be more so, however, if Stewie would exchange softly brushing his fingers the length of the hardened flesh and back again for wrapping both hands around him and jerking him.

It was as if the wicked child read his mind, because that’s just what Stewie started to do, after first having the presence of mind to bring his fingers to his mouth and spit. Within the space of probably half a minute, though, the spit ceased to matter, because Brian was producing plenty of his own natural moisture, which Stewie collected from the head and spread all down the length. Pretty soon the child had developed a regular rhythm of stroking- not too slow, not too fast,  just altogether perfect. Brian was quickly becoming lost in pleasure. All the while, his companion watched his face closely, gauging his every reaction, his eyes smoldering.

Since when were Stewie’s eyes able to smolder?!

He couldn’t believe that Stewie was sexually assaulting him! This was outrageous, he had never been so violated before in his life. He felt…awful

…dirty

… _wonderful_.

Stewie truly was criminal.            

Except, well, was it sexual assault when he hadn’t really protested at all? Was it sexual harassment if he wasn’t moving away, if he’d instead he was jacking his hips toward the child’s small hands, if he was writhing not because he was trying to get away, but because he was in pure bliss? If he was encouraging the child by panting out, “Oh yeah! Oh, yeah!”, while his claws pierced the couch and he was losing his mind over the slide and the speed and pressure?

Brian wasn’t able to hold off for very long. He achieved completion after what struck him as a startlingly short amount of time, venting his ecstasy through a long, low cry underlined with a quiet ugly, croaky sound that even to his own ears sounded shameful. He spent himself, his release coating Stewie’s small hands, dripping down his wrists, and splattering onto the couch.

The boy raised both of his brows.

“Wow. I guess you have been backlogged for a while, huh?”

Brian felt a twinge of something, guilt maybe, or its twin, self-disgust. However, whatever it was soon went back to existing only in the background. The sense of peace and relaxation that was then flowing through him was irresistible, and he was out like a light in under sixty seconds.

For Stewie’s part, he couldn’t believe how surreal this all felt. He wanted Brian to say something, anything. He waited for it. Instead, he just heard the sound of soft snoring starting up. Great.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right. _Totally_ go to sleep now,” he muttered sarcastically. He didn’t exactly have regrets over what he’d just done, but this complicated things. It was a ‘cold light of morning’ thing. If only Brian had stayed awake to talk. Since he was going to sleep on it, he might awaken in a panic.

Also, that damnable dog falling asleep now meant that he was left to clean up the mess of Brian’s passion on his own.

He stood up on the sofa and sighed heavily while staring down at the undeserving dog.

 Stooping to kiss him briefly on his nose, Stewie offered up a bittersweet, “Goodnight, Brian.”

**SBSBSBSBSBSB**

When the morning started for Brian Griffin on that last day of December, that last day of the year, he had Peter standing over him, which more or less scared the crap out of him. Awakening with that fat, clueless, grinning face bent over the couch where he lay, having it be the first thing he saw, about gave him a heart attack.

“ _Gaaahhhh!_ Peter! Don’t _do_ that!”

“Ah, relax, Brian, I’m just glad you’re finally awake. Lois is making me go to Bed, Bath, & Beyond for bed sheets. She says _I_ have to get them because she’d not missing her precious hair appointment when I’m the one who spilled Nesquik in the bed last night. Yeah, she’s been harpin’ at me since I got up about a couple hours ago. I need you to come with me. Last time I picked some sheets out alone, see, I ended up buying the wrong thread count, and I could only have roll-up-the-nightgown-to-the-waist sex with Lois for a month because she said they made her itchy.”

Brian didn’t exactly leap into action to get started following Peter’s plans, because the dog was currently having the previous night come back to him, and he found himself for some time frozen, in a stupor. Nothing made sense anymore. What world was this? Surely, surely, he was thinking of some nightmare that he’d had.

The frozen feeling passed and his heart began to pound a panicky tattoo, and he felt like he had a fist in his gut.

The fact that Peter had to be standing there talking to him about _bed sheets_ of all things was just an extra added dose of cruelty from the universe.

“Oh, uh, Peter, jeez. I’m not feeling all that well this morning and-”

Apparently, no one in the family besides Brian had heard that ‘no means no’, because Peter was grabbing his arm the next moment and hauling him off the couch.

All throughout the ride to Bed, Bath, & Beyond, while Peter was arguing with the radio (it wasn’t a political program or anything; no, it was an announcement about the newest flavor of Dorito), Brian stared out the window and endeavored to forget that Stewie was Peter’s son.

He couldn’t _believe_ what Stewie had done to him last night. What he had _let_ Stewie do to him.

_No matter how desperate I was, that was taking the principal of “any port in a storm” a little too far._

He had to be one of this sickest fucks in the world. He’d allowed an infant to give him a handjob, enjoyed that handjob so much that he came in no time flat, and had readily spewed his seed all over that infant’s hands.

And now he couldn’t stop thinking about ‘any port in astorm’, and what it would be like to really park in Stewie’s port! _Good god_ , he needed to be committed! He felt like he was Doctor Jekyll, and he’d just found out about his Mr. Hyde side.

Except…no, he knows himself, and he’s a good guy, really!

 _How good of a ‘good guy’ can you be Brian, really_ , _when this isn’t even bothering you a quarter of the amount that it should?  You know it isn’t. You basically think last night was a good night._

He shook his head viciously, shocked by that thought coming from inside his own head. But he couldn’t deny that he _had_ enjoyed his dalliance with Stewie the night before. That _must_ make him a bad guy. What on earth was going on with him? He felt like should have do some kind of penance (though for the sake of whom, he really could not say), merely for having found pleasure in Stewie’s touch. He forced himself to mentally play his encounter with Stewie over, and even in retrospect, Stewie touching him wasn’t disgusting to him, leading him to believe that it had not been some temporary glitch. He would never give in another time, of course, but- say for some life or death reason, Stewie had to do something like that to him again, Brian would most likely enjoy it then, too.

As his mind crowded with a jumble of confused thoughts, one began to stick out. It was a fact that he already knew, a very basic, fact, but it helped. He wasn’t a pedophile. He had never been  attracted to children. That must mean that Stewie was…special.

Brian clutched at his head for a moment as he fought to make sense of these revelations, but quickly his eyes darted over to Peter self-consciously. The man wasn’t looking in his direction, but the dog knew he shouldn’t look so obviously plagued by internal conflict. Of course, Peter would probably couldn’t recognize ‘internal conflict’, and would just assume it was a headache or something, but the canine didn’t wish to attract his interest at all.

How would Stewie feel, if he knew Brian was having all these thoughts about him?

Before he could ruminate on that question, Peter pulled into the mall parking lot, and soon they were disembarking from the vehicle and walking into the building.

Stewie had that innocent, insignificant, childish, harmless crush on him. That didn’t quite sink up with the devilish smirk that was on his face last night while he handled Brian with talent and passion, but that didn’t mean Stewie would look at these things like an adult would. Although, he certainly hadn’t persuaded Stewie into anything. Stewie had taken the initiative, and no one could have seemed less intimidated. He’d seemed quite eager to touch Brian, in fact. The more the dog thought about it, the more striking he found the baby’s demeanor from the previous night. At no point during their encounter had Stewie acted traumatized, or like he was doing something that he’d rather not be.

Perhaps he _hadn’t_ caused the boy any emotional damage from what happened last night. This cheered Brian considerably, as being able to hold onto that hope began to ease his conscience. Of course, there was something else, something that made him sorrowful to contemplate. Their friendship might not emerge from last night’s event unscathed.  After all, one didn’t exactly do that kind of thing with their buddy and get to just go on like nothing happened, did they?

He tried to convince himself that it would be okay, that Stewie adored him too much to want him out of his life because of one moment of weakness. But wait. Stewie doted on him. And Stewie flirted with him. Stewie had a crush on him. What if Stewie assumed that they were going to be a couple after last night?

He’d already postulated that it was possible that when Stewie made his suggestive little remarks and innuendos, and referenced sexual things, he was referring to activities that he really and truly wanted. Say what you would, but Stewie had never been innocent. He engaged in every other type of adult behavior. He basically _was_ an adult, just in baby form.

And then he was forced to think about something else.  If Stewie was like an adult, why would he, Brian, immediately relegate the feelings the kid had for him to category of ‘crush’? What if Stewie’s feelings for him much more mature than that? What if Stewie...was genuinely in love with him?

Brian was surprised when his heart leapt at the idea.

He wasn’t gay, so what was this attraction he felt toward Stewie? What was next, calling Jasper to see where he got his highlights done, and marathon episodes of _Sex in the City_ **by choice** in West Quahog?

His thoughts were all over the place. He simultaneously felt as though he _must_ have Stewie and he _couldn’t_ have Stewie.  How could he _really_ go through with embarking on a romantic relationship with his little buddy?

Wait, _romantic_? _Dating_ Stewie? Before, he’d only been thinking about lust.  And what the hell was he doing thinking of hows, when he had no intention, absolutely none, of pursuing Stewie?!

And yet he couldn’t help but wonder.  Could Stewie love him? Love him in the way he’d always dreamed of being loved?

_No. No, no, no, no, no. I’m **in love** with him now?!_

_  
_And then it hit him.Yes. He’d been in love with him for quite some time.

Brian was becoming increasingly hopeful that Stewie _might_ feel that way about him. He just needed to talk to the kid about it. It would be a conversation, though, that would be hard as hell to have. And he didn’t know if, ultimately, it were the right thing to do. Stewie may or may not be ready for something like this. Stewie may or may not want him in the manner that Brian had just realized, in his sudden moment of epiphany, he wanted the tyke. How could he risk ruining his friendship with his closest confidante?

Though, their friendship may be irreparably harmed already…

He and Peter had reached Bed, Bath, & Beyond, and Brian paused before the entrance and turned to the Griffin patriarch.

“O-okay, I’ll just walk down to the other end of the mall and back. I could use some exercise. I’ll meet you back here in fifteen to twenty, alright?”

“Naw, naw, naw. C’mon, Brian, I need your input on this. You’re going to have to come with me and give your opinion on which set you think I should get. Lois didn’t like the Iron Man ones I chose last time, and what if she don’t like what I pick out this time, neither? I don’t want her mad at me.  Then I might not get no lovin’ at all. I mean, what’s even the point of going out and buyin’ these damn sheets if they’re not going to get stained again, if you catch my drift.”

You’d have to be completely brain dead not to catch his drift. Brian grimaced and shoved the images of Peter’s and Lois’s lovemaking out of his head before reluctantly following his friend into the store.

Brian felt like he was going to lose his mind. He needed to just be alone- or at least alone in a crowd- for a while so he could descend into madness over this thing with Stewie in peace!

**SBSBSBSBSBSB**

Stewie was in the living room, slumped on the sofa, tuning and out of the T.V. program that was currently on. He’d been doing the same thing for about the last four hours, ever since dinner got over with. He hadn’t seen Brian all day, and he was in the grips of a terrible, sickening, anxiety. Practically since daybreak, Stewie’d been telling himself that he’s probably lost Brian and to come to terms with it. So far, no luck with that. And there was another part of him that refused to allow him be totally realistic. It kept whispering that, perhaps now the door had been opened, he could still convince the canine to become his.

He wondered if the dog would act like nothing had happened. It was a little late for him to start playing it that way. Stewie knew Peter had kept Brian out of the house for a while, but the child also knew that Courage the Cowardly Dog had been hiding in the basement since he himself got home, even skipping out on dinner.   

Stewie’d spent a large portion of the day with Lois and Meg, first at the salon, where Lois wound up with her hair looking exactly the same as it did when she walked in, except with her greys touched up, and Meg got her arms waxed. Then the two women had taken him to Wyndham’s, where Lois was after a new evening clutch and Meg was seeking a new dress.  If anything could be said in the shrew Lois’s favor that day, it would be that she found her purse tolerably fast, but Meg’s errand proved near impossible to accomplish. It seemed she stubbornly refused to accept that no matter how pretty the dress, it was only going to make so much of a difference in what she saw in the mirror. Finally, blaming it all on the dressing room lighting, she concluded her search, in raptures over a glittery, deep purple number  with fluttery little cap sleeves that she no doubt hoped would make her now hairless but still beefy arms look more feminine.  Then, after having selected this garment, she started talking about finding shoes to match.

Before today, Stewie had never pulled the whole crying baby bit to get out of a store.

It was a relief to do so for a couple of reasons.

Peter and Lois came down the stairs, dressed in their finery for the party tonight. Lois stopped briefly in front of the couch, bending down to coo nonsense into Stewie’s face. Fortunately, she was so anxious for her glamorous night out that she kept it brief. Unfortunately, she ended her stream of insufferable baby talk with,

“I’ve told Brian to put you to bed. He’ll be up here in a minute.”

The baby’s heart beat double time. Of course, the lazy skank had been too preoccupied with her primping to see that her baby was put to bed, and now it was up to Brian to see to that task. The dog wouldn’t fall for that, though. He knew Stewie was capable of getting himself settled in for the night. Still, in light of what happened, and what Stewie, in his foolishness, still held onto a shred of hope might _still_ happen, he got a little flustered at the mention of Brian _putting him to bed_.

Lois then walked to the door, where she took a moment to straighten her husband’s tie before they went out.

“Oh, Peter!”  She exclaimed excitedly, making fists with her hands and shaking them out in front of her like a hyperactive spaz the second she was after adjusting Peter’s clip-on gently enough that it wouldn’t fall off. “I can’t wait to get to the party! To be part of a very select few! And of course, no one knows how to party like politicians!”

At that moment, Meg came down the stairs and crossed the room. Dully, Stewie registered that it _was_ a beautiful dress. Utterly wasted on a lump like Meg, of course, but nonetheless. He disinterestedly watched a scene play out between his sister and parents as Meg walked over to them.

“You know guys, now that I think about it, I’m kind of happy that you’ll be attending this party, too. I was reading this article online about getting along with your parents, and it said that we have to have a new relationship now that I’m no longer a child. And that’s good, because…well, let’s just say our old one could use some improving. But it’s totally cool for us to go to the same events now. It’s a sign of evolved behavior from _both_ of us. It’s mebeing an adult, and you accepting me as such. So, just so long as we don’t hang out together all night, we should be okay.”

Lois’s mouth twitched.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, that’s great, sweetheart. This can be the start of something wonderful.  Just so long as we don’t hang out together at the party at all, and also…just in case you had any crazy thoughts to the contrary…”

She suddenly yanked the front door open.

“We’re not arriving with you.”

She squeezed Peter’s arm with one hand.

“”C’mon, let’s go, let’s go!” she urged.

“Ahhhh!” screamed Peter, like a monster was after them, and the two of them hurried out of the house, slamming the door in Meg’s face.

She let out a shriek of offense and stomped her foot.

“Rude! I was just going to wait on the porch for my friends.”

Down in the basement, with his canine hearing, Brian picked up the sound of one car diving away; then, minutes later, another one driving up and then leaving again. This meant Peter and Lois had departed and Meg’s ride had come to get her and she was now on her way, as well.

Oh, _Christ!_ Oh, _shit_! What was he going to do?!

Well, he’d better _at least_ get out of the basement, for one thing.

He did love Stewie, and as more than just a friend. He also firmly believed that there was a very good chance they could be happy together.

All there was to do was talk to the boy about last night.

Something Brian was dreading, even though he had a feeling that as long as he was correct in his theory about how Stewie really felt and what the kid wanted from, this talk could be the impetus for bringing the greatest happiness he had ever known into his life.

Brian was so absorbed with his own thoughts that he when he walked into the living room, it took him a few moments to take in what was going on in his surroundings. When he finally snapped out of his reverie, he found Chris, posed like he’d been walking on tiptoe, in front of the door.

“Chris? Where are you going?”

The teenager’s shoulders tensed as he jumped a little in reaction to being caught. Then they sagged in disappointment. He turned at the door, looking embarrassed and chuckling nervously.

“Um…the mayor’s party?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“A statement.”

“Wrong. And the answer is no.”

Chris’s expression changed to one of stubbornness and frustration.

“Well, why not?! Meg gets to go! Why should my ugly, lame sister get to have a better New Year’s Eve than me? And don’t say I’m not old enough to go, because Meg’s not twenty-one, either!”

Brian sighed, not really up for this. As he readied himself to make his first point explaining why Chris couldn’t go to the party, he chuckled wryly at the coincidence that this was the second time today he had to debate about whether a particular person  was or wasn’t old enough to do something. If he hadn’t already come to the conclusion that Stewie was basically a grown-up in micro form, that idea would have been clinched by his realization in this moment  that he would have considered it more appropriate for Stewie to attend the mayor’s party than for Chris to do so.

“Yeah, but she got special permission from Mayor West himself. And your mom and dad didn’t seem to mind her going. They didn’t, however, give you permission. And you probably won’t be able to make it inside, anyway, because first of all, you’re not on the guest list, and second of all, you’re underage.”

Chris was looking more and more defiant.

“They don’t need to let me in. Me and some of my deaf friends from school have got a plan to sneak in! And once I’m in, let’s see if they throw me out! Mayor West is _my_ uncle now, too!”

His hand was on the door, and Brian opened his mouth, planning on calling out to Chris and telling him he’d better stay home and why, but the words died on his lips. He wasn’t going to dig in his heels to get Chris to stay at home just so he could get in the way while Brian attempted to woo Stewie.  He doubted he could, in any sense, successfully restrain the teen, anyway. Besides, Lois had only asked him to keep an eye on _Stewie_ , not Chris. Technically speaking, it wasn’t his responsibility to keep Chris in line.

As he assured himself that everything would be fine with Chris, he moved with slightly shaking legs to mount the stairs.

The door to the boy’s room was shut, but that was nothing unusual. Stewie was often wont to shut his door- he valued his privacy wherever he could find it, as could easily be understood. The dog hesitated at that door, wondering if he should knock or what. A knock was more considerate, as it gave Stewie a warning that he was there (presuming the child was even nervous about seeing him, that was). But ordinarily, he wouldn’t knock. He would just barge right in. And he didn’t want to freak Stewie out by starting out their meeting by doing something to illustrate the irrevocable change from ordinary that had occurred.

His decision made, Brian unceremoniously opened the door and stepped into the room. The first thing he saw was Stewie sitting in the middle of the floor. He looked up when Brian entered the room. There wasn’t a book of any sort or any toys out in front of him. He simply sat there, looking worried and forlorn.

Brian was the first to speak, eyes glued to the features of his beloved. Without having previously chosen a way to open this conversation, he began by taking a bit of a gamble.

“I think I’ve been missing something important. In all the time we’ve known each other, Stewie, I failed to recognize a certain element that was at play. Sure, you hinted  and teased, but you still played it kind of close to the vest.” He chuckled dryly, but his words held ample sympathy. “As I’m sure was your intention. Well done.”

The child was staring at him as if in some kind of a trance; it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Finally, he spoke, saying, unnaturally composedly,

“Thank you.”

Stewie’s eyes bore into Brian’s. He was riveted, determined not to miss any shade or shift in them that marked this moment.  It was like being a gawker at his own train wreck, and he couldn’t help but commit to detail every moment of own destruction. Soon, however, the image of Brian began to blur as the child’s eyes abruptly filled with tears. He scrunched up his face and strove to keep his emotions in check. _You will **not** cry, Stewart! _he told himself forcefully. _You will not cry, dammit!_

But it was futile and the tears began to spill over.

“I don’t want to be strong anymore! I don’t want to keep holding it in!”

Brian stood there, rendered immobile by awkwardness, but he pushed through the paralysis after a moment and walked over to where his little buddy was seated.  He hadn’t expected things to become so emotionally charged so soon. He slowly lowered himself down on the floor beside the kid.

“Then don’t.”

The child wheezed and hiccupped, wiping his tears away desperately with the backs of his hands and ignoring Brian.

Brian swallowed. He wanted to take Stewie’s hand, or put his own hand on the boy’s shoulder, but something inside him was hindering it. Perhaps it was because he was so terrified so being rejected by Stewie, that the thought of _any_ rejection, even a tiny one such as not being allowed a harmless touch of simple affection was crushing to him.

“Tell me how you feel, Stewie.”

His companion’s head whipped around and his eyes flashed with apprehension.

“Why?! So you can laugh at me?!”

The dog firmly shook his head in the negative. His mouth felt very dry all of a sudden. This moment was so tense and intense. It should be easy. What if he just took Stewie in his arms right then and there and kissed him? Wouldn’t that just cut both of their misery short? But what if Stewie had changed his mind about him? Or what if Stewie had feelings for him, but didn’t and never had wanted an actual relationship with him? Even if he just wasn’t sure, that would still hurt. Dear god, what if Stewie only wanted some friends with benefits thing or to explore his sexuality, and here was Brian, heart in his throat in his desperation for more!

“No. Never. I promise I won’t laugh at you.”

Stewie believed him, he did. That didn’t mean that honoring Brian’s request wouldn’t still be immensely difficult, though.

Why, of why, had had he let things immediately get out of control? Why hadn’t he handled things more like:

_Oh, what’s up, man? Did you wanna talk about something? Oh, what happened last night? Pfft. That was just one buddy helping out another. No big deal. So, is there a sports game on tonight or what?_

He mumbled, sounding annoyed,

“You already know.”

Brian’s heart constricted.

“A-are you in love with me?”

His voice was more hushed than he had meant for it to come out as. More than that, it came out tinged with wonder.

Again, the child lashed out at him. This time, he started to yell, tears breaking through once more.

“I t-thought dogs w-were m-ore sensitive to people’s feelings than that! They- they’re supposed to be able to pick up on things that even other humans can miss!” He sucked in a large breath, scrubbing vigorously at his eyes with the backs of his hands again, trying to calm down. “Well, screw that theory!”

Brian gave a pained sigh, feeling guilty for having been in denial about Stewie’s feelings for so long.

“I think…maybe I had to shut off that special ability when it came to you.”

Stewie sat there with his head bowed, biting his lip and looking very vulnerable..

“Because it was more convenient for you that way?”

Brian scooted a little closer to the child, impossibly gratified when Stewie did not move away.   

“Well, yes and no. But please don’t hold it against me too much.”

Stewie cast him a highly skeptical look that fast spurred Brian to continue.

“It’s not that I was trying to hurt you at the expense of making life easier for myself. But you’re right. I did think about what was convenient. And hurting you _wasn’t._ And that’s what I would’ve had to acknowledge to myself that I was doing, if I accepted that you _weren’t_ just joking around when you would flirt with me.”

“Well…everything may well be…is _probably_ ruined now, anyway.” Stewie clasped his hands together in his lap and stared down at them. He felt a rush all through his chest. It felt like a wave crushing his heart. His heart prepared to break. “Yes, Brian, I love you. In that way.”

Brian’s expression was fairly blank, and Stewie wanted to scream at the top of his lungs in frustration overt this tragic tendency this dratted dog had to wear those fucking deadpan expressions. They could mean anything.

When the canine next spoke, though, his voice was kind and steady, although he struggled for the right words.

“Last night…when you made that move on me…” That sounded wrong. It was so much more than a simple ‘move’, but he left it at that. “I didn’t know how to process what was happening. I just kind of had…everything forced on me. I- I don’t mean that I wasn’t receptive.” He felt his face grow warm. “You know I was. It’s just, if you were going to make me confront your feelings for me, the best way probably wasn’t to make something like that happen. I’ve been bombarded with all the implications of it all day, and I barely knew how to deal.”

Brian knew that Stewie had gone out of his way before to make him feel better.  Still, you could’ve knocked him over with a feather when the child took a moment to put aside his own suffering to, while trying to quell his sniffling, offer up the following apology to his friend.

“I’m sorry I pressured you.”

Brian hesitated, his heart aching. Then, he wrapped an arm about his friend’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it, Kid.”

Stewie had tensed up upon the canine putting an arm around him, but he slowly relaxed, giving into the part of him that yearned so badly for physical contact with Brian, and would never miss an opportunity, even though he ought to just shove the dog right away. Maybe it wasn’t really the Brian’s fault, though, that just this simple gesture of an arm around the shoulders was enough to give him false hope.

“Stewie…I need to tell you something.”

The dog took in a deep breath. He felt safe now, now that Stewie had confessed his love for him. _That_ had made him feel phenomenal. And he was almost positive that his friend wouldn’t reject him. Yet…he was still nervous.

“Well, after what happened, I’ve b-been forced to, uh, to think about…some things. I’ve been thinking all day about you and about me, and, well, let’s just say, it’s led me  to reevaluate some things. I-I’ve come to realize that I’d like to have _that_ kind of relationship with you, and I want to know if that’s something you’d be at all interested in.”

Stewie was absolutely breath taken by Brian’s words. His heart swelled as supreme happiness made its home there. This was such an epic moment! He paused for a long moment before answering, not because of any doubt whatsoever about whether to accept Brian as a romantic partner, lord no, but because he needed to have the perfectly worded, perfectly delivered reply. He suddenly felt like he was living in a romance novel: he wanted to make sure his dialogue was up to par.

“Oh, my god!” he said in an exhilarated d whisper, speaking before he meant to, and, alas, not getting to deliver any fine speech. “A-are you kidding me? Brian! Of course! Of course I’ll go out with you!”

For many long moments, they couldn’t do anything apart from stare at each other and grin like idiots. After that, it was Stewie who broke them out of their spell. It was clear that he had lost much of his timidity after this talk had gone so well.

“Shouldn’t we… _celebrate_ somehow?”

Brian chuckled, divining at ounce the true meaning of the boy’s suggestion. While he wasn’t at all averse to doing a little something of that order tonight, he didn’t want to do anything _major_.  It just wasn’t the right time. The family had gone to a New Year’s Eve party. How long were those supposed to go after midnight? So, he dodged a bit.

“Well…what I’d really like to do is do something for you.”

Stewie gazed at him, perplexed, but intrigued.

“Well, so, what do you propose to do with me, then?

“I could give you a…massage.”

Stewie’s eyebrows shot up dubiously. He scrutinized his canine companion’s face. Brian had rarely looked at him chivalrously in the past, but now the dog was regarding with such a doting, eager-to-please look. It was so out of the ordinary, anyway, and in this context particularly- one where they were discussing, however vaguely, the possible exchange of certain _favors_ \- Stewie did not know what to do with it. He settled on feeling a slight annoyance as he came to suspect that Brian’s attitude was born from a well-meaning but misguided objective to go slowly for Stewie’s sake.

“Brian, I am, you know, _ready_. I do want you.”

The bog chuckled. He couldn’t help it. He just found the obvious borderline desperation on Stewie’s face quite humorous.

“Seriously, you little deviant, I think you’ve made it plenty plain that you’re primed and ready for my asking.” Automatically, his voice was going husky. He found himself speaking in the same seductive tones he’d used on other lovers in the past, much to his surprise.  However, he was delighted by the sign that this transition may happen with relative ease, after all.

He went on.

“I wasn’t questioning that. But I don’t want it to happen in this rushed way. The family might leave the party right after the clock strikes twelve. That means we don’t have time to savor the evening as we deserve to.”

Stewie looked thoughtful.

 “‘A massage’?” He wondered if Brian was being ambiguous so as to surprise him by then taking the ‘massage’ and turning it into something else after they’d gotten started. Maybe not into actual sex (although that’d still be a welcome development, too), but at least into some sort of steamy activity. However, there was no hint of ulterior motive about the dog.

“Yeah.”

Stewie thought about saying something like, _You know what an even better stress reliever is? Sex._ But he didn’t. Brian had given at least one good reason for why they shouldn’t engage in that tonight. Accepting a massage from the dog _was_ an intimate thing to do, and it could lead somewhere else. So, operating under the premise that something was better than nothing, and out of curiosity to see where this went, Stewie nodded his head.

“Okay, I’ll take it. I’ll take a massage.”

Brian smiled and leaned in for a kiss, which Stewie accepted with a glow in his heart. This was their first kiss as a couple, and Brian had initiated it. The dog’s lips took his tenderly, imparting a delicious affection; just one kiss like that, and Stewie was already addicted.  After they parted from it, the child quickly moved in again and claimed another. They pressed their mouths together heatedly this time, Stewie’s arms snaking around the canine’s neck while Brian’s paws rested on Stewie’s hips. The boy licked over Brian’s lips, and almost instantly he got what he wanted, and their tongues danced together for the first time. Although neither of them knew it, the other shuddered on the inside from the contact.

After a minute or two, though the child resisted somewhat, his arms clamped around the canine’s neck pretty firmly, Brian pried himself away from Stewie’s passionate embrace.

“I don’t know for sure, but I think there just may be some baby oil in this room.”

He went over to the changing table, hopped up on the stool that was provided there, and retrieved a bottle of oil from the selection of baby care products on top of the table. Making his way back over to where Stewie was sitting, he found that the boy had taken care of the straps of his overalls, and was busy pulling his shirt off over his head. Brian aided him in this task, and then led the kid by the hand over to the crib, where he lowered the safety bar and removed the comforter from the mattress, reasoning that it would be easier to wash the sheets than the comforter if any baby oil got on them. Next, he ushered his young partner up onto the mattress. Brian then climbed into the crib himself.

Stewie lay down on his stomach, so hyper-aware of everything at that moment- the feel of his above-the-waist naked flesh on the cotton of his sheets, the slowly growing rigidness below his waist, the sound of his bedroom clock ticking away the seconds, the sense of Brian’s presence behind him, the powdery scent of the oil, telling him Brian had unscrewed the cap. He awaited the touch of Brian’s paws kneading into his back, working to relax and pleasure.

_Yes, yes, that’s right. All for my pleasure._

Stewie let out a gleeful giggle at having the mutt in this role of servitude.

Slowly, the dog pressed the heels of both paws up the short length of the boy’s back, and then down. He repeated the process a number of times, imparting a moderate pressure. He’d given only a handful of massages in his life, and he wasn’t quite sure what had made him volunteer to give one to Stewie. He was determined, however, to do his very best. It didn’t take long for Stewie to emit a soft sigh of satisfaction. Who knew if it was because of good technique, or simply because he liked being touched by him, but either way, it was still flattering. Brian’s paws began to kneed, and with this the child whimpered. He did so again when the canine experimentally distended his claws and lightly raked them upon Stewie’s smooth, tender flesh and across his spine. Alternating all three methods set Stewie to quietly moaning. Brian felt himself beginning to get excited, and told himself to knock it off. This was supposed to be for Stewie’s benefit and not his own. He had no expectations of getting off through the kid’s efforts tonight. Whatever he might do to make the kid feel good, however, should fuel a nice fantasy when he took himself off to the basement or bathroom after the family had gotten home and moseyed off to bed.  While his mind was on the family…He was probably being too paranoid, but he kept considering the possibility that some event would transpire to bring some- if not all- of the other Griffins home early. With them being the people they were, literally _anything_ could happen to make somebody leave the party. Chris’s plan, especially, seemed like the contender for this. Not to sound like a bigot, but just suppose there came a point during the covert operation that one of his friends needed to hear?

Stewie’s soft moaning was getting to be a continuous thing, and Brian was finding it incredibly arousing. He wondered if the kid was getting turned on, too, or if it was just a coincidence that the noises he made while being massaged sounded like sex noises.

Why the hell hadn’t Brian flipped him over and pounced on him yet?! Stewie had been doing his utmost to sound sexy and enticing while the dog administered his rubdown. He’d done everything short of yowling like a whore, and yet…nothing!

“Alright, I think we’re about finished up here, then.”

He was going to have to be bold.

“Maybe- maybe I want you to massage my dick now.”

Brian’s eyes widened, momentarily so taken aback so as not to be able to respond; then, he snorted in amusement. Stewie may have asked for that a little shyly, but there had been over overriding sense of need pervading that question. He wasn’t going to go all the way with Stewie tonight. He’d already decided. However….his tail began to wag a bit as he made another decision. This one was that, as long as they locked Stewie’s bedroom door, they would probably be safe having just a _little_ fun together.

Brian chuckled.

“I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

Stewie laughed and kicked his legs up and down merrily, glancing over his shoulder and smiling wickedly.

“Not at all. It’s a simple quid pro quo.  I did it for you last night, and now I’d like for you to return the favor.”

He then flipped over onto his back, revealing that his erect penis was pointing straight up in the air.

The canine gawked. He wasn’t losing courage. It was just the first time he had ever seen Stewie with a hard-on; well, except for on the changing table, and who could say how many of those were involuntary? He found the boy being so comfortable flaunting his sexuality to be totally erotic.

Brian let the baby know that he was just going to go and lock the door. While he went to carry out this task, Stewie propped himself up with his pillows so that he’d be able to watch what Brian was about to do to him upon his return.

When the dog joined his lover in bed again, he poured out a healthy dollop of baby oil into his paw and then rubbed his palms together. The rise and fall of the tyke’s chest was more dramatic than normal. Brian grinned a devious smile and his eyes locked onto Stewie’s, which were full of anticipation.

With the first touch of Brian’s paw on Stewie’s cock, the baby gasped. The pads on Brian’s paws felt so good. He’d never felt anything like them before, and their effect on his hard and throbbing length was nothing short of extraordinary.

The dog took hold more firmly as he began to pump the boy up and down, and Stewie practically wailed in pleasure.

The child sat up more fully; leaned forward, in fact, and it caught Brian’s attention enough to distract him from jerking Stewie off any longer. His paws slipped off the boy’s turgid little member and he knelt there, puzzled, as the boy, sitting with his forehead pressed against his partner’s, reached out and  began to fondle to the dog. Brian instinctively bucked into the boy’s hand while letting out a soft growl of pleasure, but after only a couple of moments, his paw closed over the boy’s hand. And moved it away from his wanting member, causing Stewie to frown.

“Don’t…bother with trying to kick things up a notch,” the dog murmured. “I just wanna make you feel good.”

“Wow, Brian, I’d never imagined you to be such a selfless lover.”

The canine cast the boy a dark look, but he thankfully didn’t punish Stewie so far as to not return his paw to the stiff and wanting little member.

Stewie _did_ feel good, undeniably, but there was no escaping the fact that this one-way manual action felt just plain inadequate.

“I want to go further.”

A look of apprehension came upon Brian’s features.

“I know what you’re doing,” Stewie said through a sigh, tenderly laying a hand on the dog’s arm. He gave it a squeeze and smiled into his partner’s eyes. “Please just give me what I want. We don’t have to carry it too far tonight. But I really think I’d be getting more pleasure if _you_ were getting more pleasure. I just love your mangy behind that much. Didn’t you learn your lesson? Please have the courtesy to believe me when I act like I want something.”

When the boy took hold of the dog’s collar then, and began to pull on it to coax his lover to come lie on top of him, Brian did not resist. He gave in at last, his lips finding Stewie’s and melding against them, tongue emerging and pushing its way into his lover’s mouth. He kissed the boy deeply, erection throbbing. The boy wriggled against it and Brian growled low in his throat in approval. His body pressed Stewie into the mattress, but when the boy grunted and pushed on his chest in annoyance, he lifted himself up on his forearms so he was no longer resting too much of his weight on Stewie.

After a few minutes of making out, Brian pulled away. Stewie uttered a noise of indignant protest, and the canine laughed.

“Relax. I’m not about to bail on you now. I’m looking forward to this too much. I just want to undress you fully.”

Then, almost before Stewie could even blink, Brian had yanked his overalls from his legs and speedily divested him of his diaper, as well. As Stewie gazed wide eyed at the dog’s eagerness, he knew his expression was a hopeful one.

Brian shook his head, biting back the smile that wanted to force its way onto his face automatically at Stewie’s transparency.

“I already told you, we’re not doing that tonight. I just don’t want to come on your clothes. We might still wind up with some on the sheets, but if I don’t have to launder your overalls, that’s one less thing to worry about.”

He then sat back against the headboard and pulled Stewie’s naked body into his lap so that the kid was straddling him. Stewie made a soft, high-pitched noise at suddenly having every inch of his undraped form in direct contact with the plush softness of his love’s fur. Having the sensitive head of his fully hard member slip against his partner’s fur covered belly was pure heaven. He started gently, almost tentatively, rolling his tiny hips forward to press his needy little cock into the soft fur. He sighed happily, moving in a similar way again. He began to get more comfortable, thrusting against his lover more vigorously, the thrilling feel of the hard, wet flesh fitted against his backside an added incentive to get moving. The push and pull of his hips, humping into Brian’s stomach, and then pressing back against the his lover’s pulsating need  earned at first a series of grunts, then a few quite voluble groans from Brian. The canine was just as eager as the boy in his movements, grinding enthusiastically against the baby’s rear. They were both getting more and more into it. Brian’s breathe huffed hot and fast against the boy’s ear.

“It’s almost too much,” Stewie said quietly, more to himself than to his partner, but  his words, if not his awe-inspired tone, caused Brian to immediately back off.

“Too much?” he repeated in alarm, ceasing his thrusting.

Stewie burst out with a forceful , “ _No!”_

Brian thought that his lover was probably saying such a forceful ‘no’ to his question, and not ‘no’ to more stimulation, but just be on the safe side, stayed still.  

This time, Stewie spoke more calmly, uttering the words against the bottom of his partner’s neck, feeling a little embarrassed but, needing to reassure Brian, anyway, discovering himself unable to be anything other than completely candid.

“No. It’s…a divine, delectable pleasure.  Almost…too good.”

There were circumstances under which Brian would’ve erupted in laughter over Stewie using the phrasing ‘divine, delectable pleasure’, but this wasn’t one of them. Stewie was far from off base. This was beyond anything that Brian had ever felt with anyone else. Every moan and whimper the kid made, every catch in the back of his throat, everything he was doing with those diligent hips of his, the tightening and loosening and retightening of the hold Stewie had on his shoulders…and just the fact that this was _Stewie_ , and he loved this kid so, so much. 

Brian nuzzled the top of the kid’s head, inhaling deeply of the scent of L’Oreal Kids strawberry shampoo and just plain Stewie.

“God, you’re amazing,” he murmured as he shuddered.

“I know,” replied Stewie teasingly. “I just never thought I’d hear you admit it.”

 From that point on, nothing more was said, really- except Stewie kept saying ‘oh’- a string of little ohs: “Oh!...Oh!...Oh!” as they worked against each other, their motions as rhythmic as their franticness would allow. Before long, Brian began to get the first inklings that the wonderful experience was, for him, at least, drawing to a close. The pressure building up rapidly in his loins, he pushed himself more insistently than ever against Stewie, grinding like his life depended on it. The moment of finality arrived, with him holding his partner close and letting loose a guttural cry of bliss while shooting against his backside. He was feeling rather befuddled, but Brian could have sworn that Stewie gave just the slightest little laugh when he realized what was happening…

The boy was still desperately rutting against the partner who had his head tilted back, breathing raggedly, but whose arms were still around him. Stewie gave a small, dark chuckle, gently mocking, wholly triumphant…He had made Brian come again! He could only hope, though, that the mutt would hold on long enough to bring him to rapture the first time they actually had sex. Stewie allowed himself think a little more about what it would be like when Brian was actually inside his body, pumping into him, passionately taking the final physical step to consummate their love. The child moaned loudly, nails pushing into Brian’s shoulder blades, rubbing his cheek against the soft fur on his lover’s upper arm. His breathing was turning increasingly shallow. It sounded strange to his own ears. He felt as if he was beginning to float up and out of his body, but that didn’t make any sense – not when he could feel that his body was so very alive to each and every sensation. He was so very hard, so very sensitive, so very close…

“Oh, my god, Brian! …Brian…!”

And it was all over, Stewie falling prey to the grip of his intense orgasm, falling slack against his partner, breathing heavily. He gave himself several lengthy moments, squeezing his eyes shut, stars bursting behind them. He then rolled off Brian, onto his side, and they both lay down, Stewie still panting a bit as Brian stroked the tot’s back through the last of the spasms and shaking.

When they had subsided, and the boy slowly came back to himself, they shared a soft laugh, their eyes locked on one another’s. Stewie reached up to toy with Brian’s ear.

“Well. My word,” he said, his voice thick and relaxed. He felt as though he should be content never to move from this spot. He had never had such an overall sense of well-being in his life. And he was so very tired…

Brian watched the kid, whose wide eyes were watching the ceiling and looking slightly surprised, but mostly sanguine. It was strange to see the obvious precise type of comfort and cockiness in Stewie’s expression; such a typical post-coital expression.

“It was good, Stewie. This New Year’s Eve certainly turned out much better than I had hoped.”

“Mmmm. I’m glad,” the boy murmured, putting his hand on top of one of Brian’s paws where it rested on the mattress and caressing it lovingly.

Brian sort of zoned out for a minute or two, still soaking in the afterglow of their pleasurable activities, and trying to wrap his head around how happy he was in his newly realized love, but at some point, it occurred to him that the peace might be stretching on for too long. The gentle stroking on his arm he’d been enjoying had ceased, as well. The canine began to suspect what had happened and rolled over onto his side to look at Stewie. The boy’s eyes were closed, and he seemed to be either asleep, or on the cusp of slumber.

Brian laid a paw on top of Stewie’s side and shook him gently. After a few moments, he got a response in the form of a frustrated grumbling of nonsense, while the baby weakly lifted an arm and attempted feebly to swat the dog away. Brian, however, had no choice but to be resolute.

“Stewie. You can’t go to sleep. The others will probably be coming home soon.”

“ _Ahhhh_ ,”” the infant murmured languidly, stretching as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “Let them find us in the aftermath of a carnal embrace.”

“No. Don’t,” said Brian, dead-seriously.

“Oh, Bry, learn how to take a joke,” the child replied lazily, gradually making his way to the edge of the mattress and climbing down carefully out of the crib. He went around picking his clothes and his diaper up off the floor. Brian, meanwhile, was stripping the bed. He got the new linens- identical to the last set- out of the closet, and set them down on the bare mattress while he went to pop the soiled sheets in the washer in the basement. He’d just tell Lois he’d let Stewie have his apple juice in bed, and the baby had spilled. Upon his return to the infant’s room, he found that Stewie had made the bed, but that he was still naked as a jaybird. And looking at the clock.

“Huh. Were we kissing when the clock struck midnight, or just humping?”

Brian rolled his eyes. Really, the stuff the kid fixated on.

“Doesn’t matter. There’re no do-overs,” he said, approaching Stewie and pecking him atop his head.  He then gave the boy an encouraging little push in the direction of the changing table, hoping to motivate the indolent little child to do his part in tidying up.

“Hm. Well, you know, all things considered, I don’t think I’d change much about tonight,” the baby said impishly, still beaming at the dog. “In fact, I only wish it didn’t have to end.”

“You’re tired,” Brian said, looking on as Stewie thankfully took his cue and made his way over to the changing table. As Stewie used a few wet wipes on himself, the dog continued. “I’ll help you get into your pajamas and then you can go to sleep. It would be best for Lois to come home and find you asleep, anyway.” He walked over to the table, too, taking the wet wipes from him and taking his own turn cleaning up.

“What? Don’t babies sometimes get up at the most inopportune hours of night, and force whoever is with them at the time to entertain them until they’re inclined to go back to sleep again? When Lois gets home, she’ll just assume that’s what happened. Please, Bry, let’s go downstairs and watch T.V. or a movie.”

It didn’t take much convincing for Brian to say yes. He was feeling particularly obliging toward Stewie at this point in time. So, after he’d gotten Stewie into his sleeper, they headed downstairs.    

Before they got all snuggled in to watch something in the living room, however, he took the child’s hand and led him into the kitchen and fetched the bottle of champagne Peter and Lois had meant to drink before they got invited to the mayor’s party. No glasses, though. They could just drink directly out of the bottle. It would save trouble if they fell asleep on the couch before the others got back- not leaving Lois to puzzle over the presence of two empty glasses and ask Brian all kinds of awkward questions. Stewie giggled and held fast to the bottle, running off in excitement with it toward the living room- a pretty funny sight, seeing as the bottle was just about as big as he was. When Brian caught up with Stewie in the living room, the child had flipped on the television and was standing in front of it, holding the champagne bottle and looking quite pleased. Brian walked past him and jumped up on the couch, giving his young lover a quizzical look.

Stewie soon explained the reason behind his rapt enjoyment of the T.V. He seemed to be wide awake now.

“I can’t believe my luck tonight! Well, tonight-slash-this morning, if one wants to get technical about it. Everything’s coming up roses! _Sex and the City_ is on!”

Brian stared at the T.V. in belief, and as much resentment as he could currently muster, being so happy.

“Kicking the new year off right,” Stewie proclaimed, sauntering over to the couch with a self-satisfied air, handing Brian the bottle of bubbly so he’s have both hands free  to help himself climb up. He sat as close to Brian as possible, smiling at him obnoxiously. And yet, somehow…sweetly.

Brian grumbled and crossed his legs away from the boy, staring off into the opposite direction grouchily as he uncorked the celebratory bottle of champagne, but he knew, from depths of his heart and soul, that, in one respect, at least, Stewie was very much correct.

 

**_The End_ **

 


End file.
